


The Book Signing

by MissTantabis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Fantastic Beasts 2 inspired, Gift Fic, Other, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 21:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTantabis/pseuds/MissTantabis
Summary: When Newt Scamander and Leta Lestrange hold a public signing ofFantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them, they encounter a surprising and unwanted guest.





	The Book Signing

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot was written as a birthday gift for a friend, whose name I will not reveal unless they ask me to. I hope they enjoy the story.  
> Just like everybody else.

This was not what Newt had wanted. When he had started his travels around the world with the intention to write a book about magical creatures, he had done so in the hopes of people learning about these fantastical animals and showing they had as much as a right to be on this earth as wizards. Newt had not expected for the book to be this well received. But for the wrong reasons: People were more interested in Newt Scamander then in the content of the book.

The fame was not really what he had wanted. Of course it might help out in the long run. If his influence grew like this, Newt could protect the beasts better. Not just those in his case and his reservoir in the basement, but wild living beasts. It was one of Newt’s biggest dreams. That they could live in peace in their homes, and that wizards did not harm but learned from them.

If Newt wanted to achieve even a split of what he was aiming for, he needed as much support from the wizarding communities as possible. And that included him acting like a famous person. Which meant Newt had to be present for a book signing. The idea of meeting his readers excited him! But there were so many of them. Newt could see them through the slit of the curtain. It was a line, that seemed to stretch to the end of the street!

“You are nervous, aren’t you?” Leta Lestrange’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts. Newt spun around. His old school friend and former crush sat on a chair next to two boxes, which were staked full with brand new editions of _Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them_. With her skin like calf leather and her black hair, she looked quite imposing. Sometimes a foolish part of Newt wondered how she could be friends with him. But then he could not think of anybody else, whom he wanted more by his side at this moment. Well, except for Theseus maybe.

A weak chuckle escaped his lips. “I am not nervous.” Newt did not look Leta in the eye, only graced her amber fire for a split second. “What makes you think I am?”

“You are tapping your foot”, reminded Leta him gently, “You are fumbling with your trouser pockets. I know you, Newt. You always stim like this when you are nervous.” His gaze flitted back to the line of people waiting outside. His shoulders tensed and Newt could feel his foot tapping around. So many people…

Leta walked over to him. She pulled out her own copy of  _Fantastic Beasts_ . “Look at it”, she whispered and placed the book into his arms. It felt heavy. Newt’s fingers carefully graced the soft leather cover. It was green and blue, embroidered with golden lines and small stones in it. The lines formed some of the beasts Newt described in his book. He recognised a Niffler, sitting at the lower centre, a coin in its little paws. Two Occamy were coiling around the title sequence. There was the head of a Nundu, a Hungarian Ironbelly, a Thestral and a Griffon in the four corners.

Holding the book still felt surreal to him. Newt never had felt more pride in his life then when  _Obscurus Books_ had sent him the first printed copy of it. On occasions, Newt had to remind himself that he was not dreaming, that he had indeed  _done_ it.

“You worked your whole life for this”, Leta said with a smile on her face, “You were telling me about this idea since you were a Hogwart’s student. This is your moment, Newt. Go out there and use it. Make the most out of it!”

“But I have never done this before”, Newt confessed, “Last time I talked to a crowd this big, I got a panic attack and ran away from the stage! What if this happens again? I do not even know what I am supposed to say.”

“You don’t have to say much”, Leta reassured him, “Just show your gratitude. Remember, how you reacted when I told you I had read _Fantastic Beasts_? You bombarded me with questions! Why don’t you just do the same here?”

Newt replied as he handed her back her book: “Because I know you do not mind being bombarded with questions. You never minded when I drew beasts into the sand and explained every single detail of their appearance to you. I do not know if other people are the same way.”

“I know they won’t be like me”, mused Leta, “But I think it will still make them happy to know that you care about their opinion.” She waved her wand and levitated the boxes to the signing desk. “Now come on and get out there, Newt. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. Besides I will be there, in case somebody tries to do something stupid.”

***

After the first ten minutes of shock, because photographs had decided to basically get Newt in every pose possible (even those that did not look good on a newspaper article) and him answering several questions on how he had handled the gathering of all these information and if Newt had had any troubles during his travels (including somebody apparently finding it funny why he had not taken a job by the Ministry as surely he would be paid well; whom Leta had the graciousness to shut up), the book signing started.

It was easier then answering all the press questions. Strangely, despite the long line of people waiting to get an autograph on their book, Newt felt less under pressure and stress. Most people were incredibly friendly and quite a few said that he had done a milestone in a currently unknown magical field of studies. Some said Newt might leave just as much influence as Bathilda Bagshot had done, when she had published her book. Other then that most just expressed their joy in meeting him in person. A pleasure, Newt gladly returned.

A young boy, probably having just turned eleven, was the next in line. He seemed to have a bit troubles lifting his edition and placing it on the desk. “Hey, young man”, Newt called and waved his wand, levitating the book on the desk, “Let me do that.”

“Thank you, Mister Scamander.” The boy fumbled around on the edges of his shirt and asked: “Mister Scamander, did you do the drawings in the book?”

“I did the sketches”, Newt admitted and scratched through his red curls, “I did not do the colouring.”

“Can you draw one of the beasts on the front page instead of your signature?”, asked the boy.

Newt blinked and looked up to Leta. “I think it is a lovely idea”, she whispered.

With a smile, Newt looked back at the boy. “Of course”, he responded and took a second, very thin quill, “What would you like me to draw?”

“Ehm, can you draw a Demiguise?”, asked the boy, “I find their ability to turn invisible and to see the future really cool.”

Newt chuckled and began to sketch Dougal, his own Demiguise, from memory. The silky, silver fur and the large, pretty eyes. He remarked: “It’s quite impressive that they can do that, right?” Finishing the drawing, in the spur of a moment, Newt added a very small version of his signature at the edge of the drawing. “There you go.” He handed the boy the book back.

The boy looked at the Demiguise and then back at Newt. Face splitting into a large smile, he called: “Thank you, Mister Scamander.” Before Newt had any chance to sit down again, the boy reached forwards and gave him a quick hug, before he let go and hurried away.

Leta giggled. “That kid was sweet”, she remarked

Newt brushed over his sleeves, a smile on his lips. “Yes”, he murmured as he watched the boy hurry back to his mother and apparently showing her the drawing, “He was.”

The next person in the line was a woman, not young and not yet old. She was having short curls in a yellow, that seemed to have been bleached. Her lipstick was a touch too strong. Newt was not sure if she was mad that he had spent so much time with the boy, so Newt said just to be safe: “I am sorry I kept you waiting.”

“Don’t apologise”, the lady replied. Her voice was clear and calm. A bit hard on certain notes, but nothing too unpleasant. “I can see that boy had a lot of fun. I would not want to spoil it.” She handed him her copy. While Newt signed it, she stated: “I have a question, Mister Scamander. I know you advocate for the fact that every beast should have the right to life. Surely that cannot extend to every animal! I mean, there are some beasts that are known man killers. Surely you approve if we kill them, right?”

Newt looked up and responded: “I am not denying that some of the beasts described in this book can cause great harm to humans. But I would like to remind you, Madam, that for most beasts, even large ones like a Nundu, we are not on their list of prey. Beasts avoid humans naturally, both magical and non-magical alike. Of course there are beasts that on occasions hunt humans. Those have to be kept in check. But I do not think that this means killing them. Most beasts only hunt humans as a last resort. And in many cases where a human was attacked, the animal itself had been provoked or felt threatened. I am of the belief that if people learn how to correctly behave around beasts, the attacks will become less.”

The woman still seemed a bit sceptical. However she nodded and took her book. “If you say so, Mister Scamander”, she responded, “I do hope that what you say, will come true.” Newt nodded back and the woman left.

The book signing continued. The clock ticked by. Sometimes Leta disappeared in the room, where they stored the new books to get several, because not everybody had brought a copy. She also asked Newt if he was alright, if he needed a break or food and drink. Newt usually declined, but it was good to know they could have a small five minute break if necessary.

At approximately five o’clock, two hours after the signing had started, a man, wearing oddly large glasses and a funny patterned scarf appeared. He was holding his own copy in his hand and with an excited grin asked Newt to sign it. “Of course”, the magizoologist stated. By now his cheeks hurt, because he had been constantly smiling. While he wrote his name onto the first page, Newt curiously asked: “Did you have a favourite beast?”

The man waved a hand and laughed. “Oh, no, no, no. I did not read the book”, he admitted, “I am a collector of fancy books. I heard your book might become important. I already have Bathilda Bagshot’s  _History of Magic_ . I did not read that either. I only ever go to signings to have the book signed and then I put it in this nice, clear bag.” He held up a clear film. “I never touch it again.”

Newt was speechless. “But that is not what my book is supposed to be for!”, he called out, “It is supposed to educate people! It is not supposed to be placed onto a shelf for decoration!”

Leta placed a hand on his trembling frame. Smiling at the man, she stated: “You are holding up the line, Sir.” Despite sounding polite, she was using that fake politeness, where she clothed a threat into a simple demand. This time it meant  _Move or I make you move!_

The man seemed to have gotten that. Storing the poor book away; probably forever, he left. Newt exhaled slowly and repeated dryly: “My book is supposed to educate. It is not some decoration.”

“I am sorry, Newt”, responded Leta, “You cannot always control, where your book ends up. See it from the bright side. At least he has no intention in using it for firewood.”

People seemed to have caught on that this type of collectors were not really something Newt liked. The rest of the line reassured him how engaging they had found his read. Maybe they were just scared of Leta. Newt was too tired to really decipher between which was which.

At six o’clock, they had finished with the last person on the line. Leta stretched herself and murmured: “Oh, boy. I cannot stand a minute longer.” She dropped down onto a chair besides his. “How are you feeling, Newt?”

“Tired”, Newt confessed, “And a bit confused. I’ve never talked with so many people within such a short tim. My cheeks still hurt from smiling so much.” He ended up making various funny noises in a desperate attempt to relax his muscles. “I never expected to have so many different reactions towards my book. I knew not everybody would praise it into the sky. There are always conservatives. But this is still very strange.”

“I think you did very –” Leta halted mid-sentence. Newt looked up. At the doorway stood a hooded figure. “What do you want?”, called Leta and got up, trying to shake off her tiredness. Newt rose. They pointed their wands at the figure.

The stranger said: “I wanted my book to be signed.”

“We intended to close the signing now”, admitted Leta.

“I am sorry”, confessed their unwanted guest, “I know I should have come earlier. But I am not too fond of crowds. Please, Mister Scamander. Sign my book and I will be on my way. I promise.”

“Oh, really?! How about you show your face first!”

“Leta!”, Newt called and laid a hand on her wrist, “He just wants his book signed. And I think, I can do one more book.”

Leta looked between him and the stranger. “I don’t know”, she whispered, “He should at least show his face. I am not asking him to hand over his wand.”

“Mister Scamander”, the stranger stepped forwards, “I can fully understand the Madam’s concern. Your friend’s suspicion is justified. I won’t hide my face.” He grabbed his hood and pulled it off. A hand brushed through long, golden curls to get them away from his face. Before them stood a man of twenty-seven years of age, a thin face, clear cheekbones and narrow cat-like eyes. It were those eyes, that made Newt recognise him at once, even though the face he had known those mismatched pools of ice and gold from was much older.

“ _GRINDELWALD!_ ”

His call made Leta go into a fighting stance, and with a flick of his wrist, Newt tossed the Swooping Evil into the air. It shrieked and in a blur of green and blue began to circle them, making sure his body was between them and Grindelwald. If this dark wizard thought he could do anything now, he was sorely mistaken. They outmanned him and Swoop could protect them from anything Gellert Grindelwald might throw at them.

“Call your flying friend back, Mister Scamander”, demanded Gellert.

“I won’t!”, Newt responded.

Leta was not having any bargaining either. Her stance was one of an Auror. It seemed being the secretary of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement had its perk of giving you a basis Auror training. “You are in no position to ask anything of us, Grindelwald”, she continued, sounding like a professional, “You are a wanted criminal and we have every right to call the Aurors upon you.”

“You won’t do such a thing.”

“Why shouldn’t we?”, Newt responded, “My brother is one of the head members in the Auror Department.” He did not like using his brother as a threat. “If we call him, he’ll be here with a troop. Face it, Grindelwald. You have nowhere to go!”

Gellert Grindelwald dropped his head and shook it in a deep laugh. “Mister Scamander, you are right: I am a wanted criminal”, he teased, “But the Aurors are looking for a man physically twice my age. Do you think they will believe you when you tell them this” – he pointed at himself – “is Grindelwald?”

“Theseus would”, Newt stated, “And because of him, the others would.”

“It would be hearsay”, stated Grindelwald, “You don’t have any proof that I am me. And this is my true face. Revealio won’t work on it. Moreover you did not catch me in a crime. Isn’t that the rule as to when you can call Aurors? When you see somebody commit a crime or leave the scene of a crime, making him a major suspect?”

“You’ve committed plenty!”, called Leta.

Gellert whipped up and down on his feet. “Past actions won’t be admissible in this case. I repeat: You cannot prove I am me. Moreover you are the ones hostile towards me. If you call the Aurors, I could accuse you off threatening a passer-by. And the way you stand right now and the Swooping Evil over my head, would give me plenty of reasons and evidence to feel threatened.”

Leta exhaled slowly and lowered her wand, even though Newt could see she disliked doing that. “Somebody did his home work, Newt. Damn it!”

He lowered his wand, but Newt kept Swoop where he was. “Truce?”, the magizoologist asked Gellert.

“Truce. May I now get my book signed?”

Leta looked like she was about to make another rude remark, however she swallowed whatever insult was on her tongue and gave Newt a questioning look.

Newt merely inquired: “You...you read my book?” From all the people, whom he had hoped for to read his book, Gellert Grindelwald had been one of the last people, whom Newt had expected. Was it good that he had shown interest? But what if he had only shown interest to weaponise beasts? Newt had seen the Ministry do it with dragons. Who was to say that Grindelwald would not do the same thing?

“Yes, I did.” Gellert reached into his inner cloak pocket and pulled out an edition of _Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them_. It was the paperback edition. Nothing fancy. The edges of the book looked beaten and the decorations seemed to have paled. This book had been travelling a lot. Before it had fallen into Grindelwald’s hands? Afterwards? 

Newt wondered how Grindelwald had gotten this book. After all he probably could not just enter a book shop whenever he liked. Had one of his Fanatics gotten it for him? But why would he bother to read it? Was it just because Newt had been the one, writing it? Was Gellert trying to learn more about him through his interests?

Gellert placed the book onto the table before Newt. Leta kept watching him as if she expected the dark wizard to draw out his wand at any moment. Newt too staid cautious. However it seemed Grindelwald staid true to his word.

Newt opened the book and flipped it towards the first page. Dipping his quill into the ink, he still caught my hand slightly trembling as he signed the book. “Why have you come here?”, Newt whispered towards Grindelwald, “You surely realise what dangers you put yourself in.”

“I’ve come to talk”, was the reply, “I did read your book. It is quite a piece of work. I applaud you.” Gellert rose his hands and slowly clapped. Newt felt his skin crawl. As much as the praise should flatter him, all Newt could see was the twitch around the curves of Grindelwald’s full mouth, the twinkle in his eyes. His entire action did not feel as flattering as it should.

“Ehm, thanks”, Newt murmured, unsure on how best to response.

“I’ve always respected pioneers, Mister Scamander”, mused Gellert, “And you clearly are one. I am sure your work will change how people see the wonderful creatures, inhabiting our world.”

Leta finally seemed to have found her speech again for before Newt could stop her, she busted out: “Get to your point, Grindelwald! It is noted in your files that you have a knack for manipulating people through well-placed compliments. If you think it will work on Newt, you are sourly mistaken!”

He chuckled, entirely unimpressed by Leta’s fury. Her hand went for her wand. “Leta!”, Newt warned again, but if he was honest, he too was not sure what to fully make out of this conversation. The last time Newt had encountered Gellert Grindelwald, he had been very clear on his stance. Now it was like the study of an unknown animal. Each turn left Newt in surprise and wonder.

Gellert rose his hands in a beschwichtigende gesture. “Madam, I’ve meant no harm”, he crooned. “I was merely acknowledging the work Newton Scamander put into his book. Work, I know to value. After all I know how it feels like when passion for a project overtakes you.”

His stomach turned over in disgust. “What I am passionate about and what you are passionate about are two very different things, Mister Grindelwald”, Newt responded, “Stop flattering me. It makes me uncomfortable.” He shut his book and pushed it towards him, so he could take it. “I’ve signed your book. Now leave!”

His mismatched eyes rolled around as if he was debating, whom to look into the eyes. Newt had noticed this habit before, when he had pretended to be Percival Graves. It had been so much unlike what Mister Graves was like and so much like him, that it had startled Newt.

Gellert merely responded: “Mister Scamander, I would like to believe our passions are quite similar. After all what we are advocating for is change. Change in the wizarding world and change in the way our kind sees their environment and those inhabiting it.”

Newt shook his head. “Wanting wizards to respect magical beasts and wanting world domination are not the same things. My change is a peaceful one. Yours is marked by violence, Grindelwald. It is not the same. It cannot be the same!” Newt would not allow this man to twist his thinking the way Albus had done it. Leta had been right. It was hard to manipulate Newt, because he had grown up manipulated and manipulating. Newt Scamander lived and breathed both sides of the coin.

Leta pointed her wand at Grindelwald. “Last chance, Gellert Grindelwald”, she scolded him, “Leave us be or I will call the Aurors and have you arrested for harassment. Then your youthful face won’t help you to talk your way out of this.” They stood there and stared at Grindelwald in defiance. He had said his message, Newt had said his. There was nothing more to discuss.

Gellert Grindelwald grabbed his battered book and shoved it back into his cloak. He nodded at them. “I will return”, the dark wizard murmured. Turning around to half leave, he looked back at Newt. “Until then, Mister Scamander”, Gellert Grindelwald said, “I would like you to ponder this: Maybe our ways of change are not the same, but our wishes makes us twins in ambition nonetheless.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments keep me writing.


End file.
